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Posted by on Nov 20, 2013 in Blog, Feature |

Nice, France (a poem)


confined between the shores of europe and africa

the mediterranean watches the affairs of men

from a neighborly distance

caring nothing for the flash and pompĀ of the cars and casinos

but only of the sun dancing across her back

and when the markets drain and the children scatter

and day surrenders to the ink of night

the sea glows hot in the dying light